


A Deceptive Lack of Tears

by loveisahorsenamedraspberry (Minshara)



Category: He-Man and the Masters of the Universe
Genre: (not beastiality), Alternate Canon, Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Horses, Humor, Love, M/M, Other, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, WIP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 07:38:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12127677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minshara/pseuds/loveisahorsenamedraspberry
Summary: Skeletor takes care of some business and finds something else on the way..WIP - will finish this I promise





	A Deceptive Lack of Tears

The plains were arid. Sometimes the dry ground cracked and piled atop itself, leaving crumbling walls of earth. Climbing up a soft incline to one of these cliffs, breathing deep, you could smell nothing beyond desiccation, or sometimes ancient, dying plant matter.

Skeletor’s boots were caked with the same thick powder that settled upon every surface of the plains. Heavier than dust but lighter than other soil, the powder painted travelers a sad shade of beige more and more the longer that they stayed in this desolate place.

The first act of Skeletor’s plan was a success. Beast Man had bumbled long enough, and had ruined his last plan, or so Skeletor had hoped. The Sky Beasts of Kythor were never intended to eat the Dire Amulet of Power, but they had. Without the Amulet, Skeletor’s latest plan to conquer Grayskull was foiled.

Beast Man was lost miles into the Dusty Forest beyond the plains, just as Skeletor desired. There, without the wit to escape, he would be banished forever, unable to muck up Skeletor’s business.

Skeletor had walked for seventy hours. The sun never set on the plains, and Skeletor knew this well by now. His ample muscles pulsed with heat, and seemed to cry out to Skeletor’s subconscious. “Dear Master, why must we go without water in this harsh heat? Dear Master Skeletor.” Skeletor wished his other minions loved him the way his arms did.

Skeletor’s arms would be wet with pearls of sweat. Heavy with salt, the sweat would leave tear-like trails down the top and bottom of Skeletor’s arms. The scent in the air would be powerful. But Skeletor had no sweat left.

Standing atop the ridge, Skeletor surveyed the terrain ahead. He had lost track of time. Would it be five more days hike, or fifteen? This issue had not and would not bother him, as he was calm, almost serene, with the knowledge that Beast Man was gone, and no more mucking would ensue.

Instead of worry, Skeletor’s superior mind rippled with more practical thoughts. Survival was paramount - if he were to die, then Beast Man would have yet again mucked poor Skeletor. “My first priority - after conquering Grayskull - is to survive! Like the brilliant and beautiful chargers from my home dimension, I will survive!” 

As Skeletor reminisced over his home, his pride swelled. In the certain solitude of this place, Skeletor was free to embrace his whims, his pleasures, and his penchant for roleplay. He all but broke down on all fours as he galloped in circles, trying to create an empathic link with the horses so far away from him now.

“A wild charger would have never found himself in this predicament! And if he did, chased for hours into the wilds by some wretched blonde beast, he would still survive. He would..” Skeletor paused, contemplating. The cool blue flesh of his index finger and thumb met his golden bone face. After a moment of quiet, he erupted, out loud, echoing far enough that perhaps even Beast Man could hear him, “Water! Nectar of the Gods! I require a great deal of water!” His arms quivered in anticipation as if struck by the raw power of his will. “I will find a stream so great and powerful and I shall drink it dry!”

Skeletor galloped off. A wicked smile painted his wretched visage from cheekbone to cheekbone.

Skeletor galloped for thirty-seven hours until the plains breathed easy, calmed under the nurture of what Skeletor desired so dearly. “I can smell it now!” proclaimed Skeletor, excited, sounding irascible to all of us but secretly, inside, almost moved to the point of tears. If he had any left.

Again, using his superior intellect, he surveyed the varying geography. The flatness of the arid plains was beginning to break, forming what were now dried ravines and great hills. I can’t begin to describe the immense reason and knowledge that Skeletor drew from, but just trust me, he divined a direction, somehow holy, and aimed himself directly that way. Like a compass. Skeletor cackled gleefully, “Nyeu-heh-heh-heh!”

Far off in the distance, Skeletor could see another ravine, though this time, decorated with what appeared to be a dull yellow line of scrub. He cackled again, validated, and feeling somehow more powerful than his baseline of powerfulness. “NYEH-HEUH-HEUH-HEH-HEH-HEH-HEHH!”

By now, Skeletor’s gallop had deteriorated into an efficient, if not slightly whimsical dash. His tired but loyal arms pumping back and forth, providing a superior balance to a man of his refined lineage.

As he drew near, his lack of ears picked up the faintest of sounds. Was it rustling brush? Was it a Space Snake preparing to strike? No, it was the weakest of streams, trickling slowly across the land. He was about to leap powerfully toward the ravine that he had been riding himself toward, but still, there was another sound. The hollow sound of bones clacking together. “Not yet, skeleton!” Skeletor yelled angrily, requiring his skeleton to simmer down and await its turn to feel the sun’s rays. While Skeletor’s arms were happy for the preference, Skeletor’s lack of ears was picking up not the song of his own skeleton, but that of another. Just as soon as he had shouted out those dismissive, careless words, he realized that they were misguided, and felt a clarion call deep in his soul. Another soul, so boney, and so vulnerable.. Suddenly, his thirst for the entirety of a wilderness stream dissipated, just as quickly as his pearls of sweat and tears had days before.

His skull shot back and forth in every direction, jerking so suddenly that it risked spinning violently off of his body. Before that could happen, Skeletor’s eyeholes stopped on a sight of beauty. Skeletor didn’t believe in romance, or love, but if he did, this is what it would feel like. 

Skeletor could almost feel his heart stop, and he worried for a moment, before returning to his reverie, that he might be having a heart attack. 

Skeletor had laid his eyeholes on the finest of beasts - the most valiant, most faithful, most gracious of all. The Bone Horse, brought to the same river as Skeletor’s own survival instincts, was drinking (somewhat unsuccessfully) from the timid stream.

Skeletor’s jaw dropped away from the rest of his skull, and stayed there for some time. It stayed there for long enough that Skeletor became aware of it, and had to consciously decide to close it again, feeling a bit awkward. And he was conscious too of feeling awkward, and he wondered if it was all because of the presence of this creature. Skeletor resolved to find composure and regain his stature, his command, in the presence of this creature. There would be no other way to tame it.

His soil-heavy boots laid down hard on the ground, in a sort of bad boy way, as if to say, “I am Skeletor, a proud and gallant rider from Infinita, and I shall be your new master!”

The Bone Horse looked up at Skeletor as he approached, water falling unceremoniously from its clackety jaw. It was a look that televised great uncertainty about Skeletor, and he did not care for it. He instantly responded, “Listen here! I am Skeletor, a proud and gallant rider from Infinita, and I shall be your new master!”

The words fell out of Skeletor’s mouth like a lead-handled toilet scrubber. He felt, at his core, betrayed by his own words. The Bone Horse, too, communicated some sense of disappointment.

After a few moments of mutual quiet between the two, and a statue-like performance that would look a lot to us like a petrified mime show, Skeletor collapsed onto his boney butt.

As a brief aside, I’d like to share with you some details about Skeletor’s butt. Skeletor is one buff dude, outside of two places - his boney skull head, and his remarkably sad butt. Skeletor’s butt bones jutted out from their sad flesh display like a couple of butter knives trying to force their way through a placenta. These facts that I have communicated to you today are not facts that Skeletor is proud of, but they are truth. They are as truthful as Skeletor’s feelings of, despite his objections to this feeling, love.

“I’m sorry, Bone Horse. Those words deserve not to be spoken to a being of your majesty.”

If the Bone Horse had vocal chords, it would have whinnied appreciatively. Instead, it looked at Skeletor with a blank expression.

The earth said goodbye to Skeletor’s miserably boney butt and hello to Skeletor’s rounded blue knees as he crawled toward the Bone Horse, making a desperate appeal.

“Bone Horse! Forgive me, an otherwise proud and gallant rider from Infinita! I shall be your new partner! Please!” Skeletor was as pitiable as he had ever been, but he didn’t care. He was out here in the wilds, with only the Bone Horse to witness, and if the Bone Horse saw a sad Skeletor, then so be it. It was worth being in the presence of such a creature, for Skeletor, and he desired only to share the rest of their lives together.

The Bone Horse looked downward to Skeletor’s golden face. Its jaw dipped and swung after only the slightest movement. The Bone Horse felt admiration and acknowledgement for the first time in so long, and it’s heart bones grew warm.

Skeletor insisted further, not yet knowing the Bone Horse's true feelings, “Bone Horse! Find warmth in your heart bones for this man, so lost without the guiding light of your stance, so without energy not knowing the clapping of your mighty hoof! Oh, Bone Horse, if you would just forgive me for this mistake, this arrogance, and join me - join me to conquer Castle Grayskull and defeat that wretched blonde monster He-Man! HEEE-MAAAAAN!!!”

And it was so that the Bone Horse felt love.

Somewhere, miles away, Beast Man was eating the bark off of a dead tree, and wondered how he should find his way back to his Master.

To be continued..


End file.
